7:15 p.m.

• Yet another reason why men and women will never understand each other.

The better half and I are meeting up with two friends from Ohio this weekend. Having been part of many a botched planned outing in my life, I’ve learned to just go with the flow when dealing with events taking place out of state. Long story short. We are all traveling several hours to Columbus. I told my one friend that the first person to get to their hotel calls the other groups via cell phone. When everyone checks in to their rooms, we’ll meet at the nearby O’Charley’s. Of course, this has the better half all concerned that something is going to go wrong. She would rather have everyone meet in a particular place at a particular time, which of course means that during the trip to Columbus there will be a 30-car pile-up, making us late and having her freaking out over getting to some place late. But I digress.

A few weeks ago we bought wedding gifts. She insisted that we do this shit in advance, and of course I can’t remember what we bought. Anyway, a few days ago my friend asked if I wanted to go in with him on some wedding gift. When I told Mrs. kkk of this, she said, “You mean he hasn’t bought a gift yet?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “Why not?”

Me: “Because he’s a guy.”

A while back I remember this television commercial with this young couple getting each other cards for some occasion. The chick was in some hippie store going through every goddamn card on the shelf (and they indeed do this shit – trust me). The guy was at some Quickie Mart getting beer and just grabbed a card on display at the register. When they swapped cards at the end of the ad, the chick’s panties got all wet because of how sentimental her gentleman caller’s card was. Ugh. The only thing worse than shopping for cards is shopping for clothes. Well, actually, I’d have to say cards are worse because she can NEVER decide on one. Hell, for this wedding, she went to THREE DIFFERENT STORES for a card – a card that, I discovered, cost more than $5. Yeah, yeah yeah, Jew boy. But Jesus Christ, IT’S A CARD. The only reason I open any cards now is in hope that some money falls out. Shopping for clothes is annoying, too, but when I’m with the better half, it’s fun to let her know what I really think of the outfits she picks for herself. Fuck that, I’m not going to lie – if I don’t like something I’m going to say so. Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t get pissed off over this. But she does get psycho when, after looking at a card shelf for 20 minutes and asking me for my opinion of what card to get, I head over to the 99-cent section and grab one without even looking at it. Like I said before: IT’S A CARD and I’M A GUY.

10 a.m.

• Well, this was a fun day so far. Last night I was watching some History of the Barbarians show. For what reason I have no idea. Well, I fell asleep watching it and swallowed some spit or something. Because my head was at some kind of angle, it went down the wrong pipe or something and I woke up gagging. This has happened to me before and it FUCKING SUCKS. Not only do you gag, but you feel like you're going to throw up. Plus that aftertaste. Blech. I take some Pepto, and although it doesn't cure all the afflictions, that pink stuff tastes a lot better than pseudo-vomit. I then went to bed.

This morning I wake up and feel like shit. Not only do I have a fever, but my body is aching like a mo' fo'. Normally I would call off, but I didn't because 1) I'm going to an out-of-state wedding this weekend, meaning the buttload of work on my desk can't get done this Saturday and I don't know if I'd feel like driving in on Sunday to get it done. 2) I have some chick coming in for an asisstant interview, and I didn't want to stand her up. Well, I get into work and I find that this applicant left a message saying she wasn't coming in. Goddamnit. Oh well, at least I didn't have to waste time interviewing her only for her to decline our organization's offer when she gets the pathetic hourly wage being offered of which I have no control over.